Raising kids

 I’m not naming names, but I raised my kids to work hard, think things through, and treat others with kindness and respect. I’ve seen them stand up for themselves and others, befriend those who needed a friend, and share a meal with someone sitting alone—whether it was in a school cafeteria or with an elderly man they just met at their grandfather’s funeral.

If you’re not seeing that side of them, there’s a reason. I also taught them not to tolerate disrespect or put up with nonsense. Just something to keep in mind.

Same Verse... Not the same as the First!

Oh, the 50s. What a ride that was—for all the wrong reasons. My 30s and 40s? Brilliant, especially the 40s. But the 50s? A chaotic cocktail I could’ve done without. Menopause barging in uninvited, the kids flying the nest, and the rather rude realization that my "dazzling beauty queen” days were more of a distant memory. It felt like an identity crisis on steroids.

Then cue my husband retiring. Lovely for him, naturally. He puts his feet up while I’m still running the show, except now the house is somehow his domain.

Now, we’re in the 60s, and things have shifted yet again. The grandkids are growing up, and I have to watch my friends morph into Pinterest-perfect grandmas. Am I jealous? No, not really. Am I mildly miffed that they seem cooler? Maybe a little. It’s another dent to the ol’ ego. What’s a woman supposed to do when the world assumes her mission ends post-parenting? Start knitting scarves?

And then there’s the big question no one warns you about. Turn the focus on myself? Great idea, right? But wait, does that make me selfish? I’ll be honest—parts of this decade do feel like a surprise sequel to my teenage years. Only this time, I have fewer pimples and way more disposable income. Sleeping in, planning vacations without diaper bags, eating dessert just because. It’s liberating, sure. But it’s also bittersweet to feel like you’re meeting a “new you” when you actually liked the original model just fine.

Here’s to the 60s, though. They say reinvention is key. Maybe I’ll even get a cool grandma badge at some point. Or not—we’ll see.

Wearing our own Shoes

When I’m at the doctor’s office, waiting for my turn, I often find myself watching the other patients around me. There they are, people around my age, moving just a little slower as they sit down or pulling out their glasses to check their phones. It’s surreal, isn’t it? We were all young not too long ago, full of dreams and plans that felt endless.

Now, we’ve raised families, built careers, and some of us are closing that chapter with retirement. The gray hairs are coming in steadily, and the aches and pains are starting to announce themselves more loudly. Yet somehow, sitting there surrounded by strangers, I feel this unexpected connection to them all. We’ve traveled similar roads, weathered the same kind of storms, and here we are, all moving forward together to our next chapter in our lives, just in different shoes.

I Ain't No Fangirl

Ozzy Osbourne passed away this week, and while I wouldn’t say I’m the type to idolize celebrities, it really made me stop and think about him. I’ve always thought he was a fascinating figure—a rock legend who was wildly entertaining on reality TV yet somehow came across as surprisingly relatable (in his own way). I guess it’s got me reflecting on how I’ve never been one to get starstruck. Honestly, I think I’d make a pretty solid friend to a celebrity because I just don’t have that “fan” mindset.

This realization took me back to my younger days when my best friend was utterly obsessed with Leif Garrett. Her world revolved around him. Her locker, clipboard, walls—basically everything she owned was covered in pictures of him clipped from Tiger Beat (a 70s and 80s rite of passage, for sure). Meanwhile, I tried to keep up but didn’t have a single celebrity crush to my name. Weird, right? Everyone else was fangirling, and I just... wasn’t into it.

Don’t get me wrong—I grew up on classic rock. I listened to Ozzy, Mötley Crüe, and every rock ’n’ roll band of that era. But while others memorized band members’ names and pasted their posters everywhere, I was just there for the music. I never really cared about who they were as people. Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt I’d be good at keeping a famous friend grounded—I see them as people, not untouchable idols.

I’ll admit, though, I didn’t really “discover” Ozzy until his family’s reality show came along. That’s when I realized how much I liked him and Sharon. They were chaotic yet oddly charming. It made me wish I knew them better in real life because they seemed… human. It got me thinking how so many people we admire from afar must have fascinating layers we don’t see because we’re so busy seeing them as “icons” instead of normal people. That thought’s been sitting with me lately.

Break A Leg!!

Last night, our afterschool daycare kids put on a performance of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and it was an absolute blast! I didn’t realize just how much I’d missed theater until I found myself smiling ear to ear the entire time. Now I’m at the point where I might start begging someone to build a theater in Yukon. I mean, how does a town this size not have a community theater? Seriously, I’m considering calling every stage owner within a 50-mile radius to see if we can make something happen for some local productions.

Here’s the thing—I don’t want to join another towns theater. I want something for this community, something we can call our own. Either I figure this out soon, or I might need to move to a town that already has one (and we all know moving doesn’t sound fun). The mental debate over this has got me spinning, so wish me luck!

Anyway, back to the performance. It was incredible. We had 21 kids ranging from 5 to 12 years old, and guess what? These little stars saw the stage for the first time the day before. ONE practice on stage. They have been practicing every day but not with props or on a set. And they still nailed it. Around 90-100 people showed up, clapped like crazy, laughed at all the right moments, and just soaked it all in. Honestly, I couldn’t believe how well the kids handled themselves. Barely any mistakes, no breaking of the fourth wall… I was stunned.

Major shoutouts to Katie and Samantha, the directors (and absolute rockstars), who completely brought the magic to life. The costumes were on point, the music hit the right notes, and the energy in the room was electric. We rented the Czech Hall for the performance. Never been inside before…but wow, it was just perfect (well, minus the heat. Felt like we were performing inside a volcano, but I digress).

Oh, and my grandkids? Phenomenal. I mean, obviously, they’re talented, but they somehow outdid themselves. Watching them on stage just filled my heart to the brim. Honestly, this whole experience reminded me how much I need theater back in my life. It’s no longer a “want”—it’s a full-on necessity. Time to find or build a community theater. Yukon, we’re overdue for one!

But seriously, what an unforgettable night. My heart is full.